THE STOMACH SUFFERS FROM LACK

In POETRY by Wayne Amtzis1 Comment

The stomach suffers immensely

It suffers from lack. The spine bent and hobbled with hurt,

the spine that held up the stairs

and resisted the shifting walls, the spine

carries us forward, stiffened, but not broken

The hands, palms dark and swollen,

knuckles split, fretted with blood

broke our fall and drag us still from the rubble

The soles of the feet with so many years

ground into it. And the heels

that steady us, ridged like the bark of a tree,

Soles and heels, with the legs tireless

and drained, that sprang us free, rock us now

here where we crouch. Head in our hands,

lips broken like the earth beneath the stream

that long ago fled, and the teeth,

so few, gapped like houses that stood along the ridge,

jailors, holding back the cry

that overtakes us: the heart suffers from loss,

it suffers severely. The tongue, furtive,

caked with the stench of its own saliva, wanting

to… wanting to speak, and the eyes,

those darlings of life, weary from never closing,

the eyes link and sustain us

as we look to each other, and without turning

away, as we look within, lifting us,

lifting us…

About the Author

Wayne Amtzis

Poetry is my sadhana/ Meditation, my muse. Other LEVEKUNST articles by the same author.

Photo by Brett Hondow, USA

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